It Matters Where You Go
by Kabanga
Summary: A spoilt young pure-blood and a carefree young muggle-born meet on the Hogwarts Express. What could possibly go wrong? My very first Hogwarts story ever!
1. Chapter 1

**It Matters Where You Go**

**Chapter 1 August - Beatrice**

A rather extravagant and unusual house sat at the top of a hill just outside Chudleigh. It had sweeping lawns, ancient trees, even a small window on the upper floor through which passers by would swear they had seen birds swooping. But that was all they would see, they rarely, if ever, caught a glimpse of the residents... Most often it was the daughter playing outside, a plump, fair haired child, who, in the opinion of the villagers, spent far too much time up the trees for a child of a _respectable _family. Not to mention there was never any sign of the parents. Yes, it was agreed that the family that lived in Shortedge House were far from normal, but it seemed as if their money paid for everything, from the restoration of the church they never attended, to the refurbishment of the school their child didn't attend, so the villagers left the family from their prying. If anybody could afford to be left alone, it was the Feeneys.

"Really, Daddy, it should have arrived by now,"

A girl sat at the breakfast table, her elbows rested on the table, and she cradled her chin in her hands. She was around 11 years old, with neat blonde curls and a rather round face, as well as sparkling blue eyes. She wore pyjamas, pink checked trousers and a plain pink long-sleeved top. Across the polished wooden table sat the man who was presumably her father, he was a plump man with a pleasant face, rather balding and with a moustache that didn't exactly suit him, but didn't distract the eye either. He drew a long, thin stick from the pocket of his black pinstriped robes and tapped his teacup, it rattled gently in its saucer as the spoon suddenly came to life, stirring it as the milk poured itself into the brown liquid that was appearing inside, the little girl watched, fascinated.

"Now Beatrice, be patient," His voice was stern, but his grey eyes sparkled as he spoke, "We haven't yet had the post for this morning, now, eat up."

As he spoke, a small creature with large ears, a wrinkled face and what appeared to be a crisp bedsheet wrapped around it appeared by the table. It was a house elf. She bowed extravagantly and presented a plate of toast and jam to Beatrice, the girl thanked the elf who smiled in return, "Most welcome, Mistress Feeney."

"Thank you Velda," The man nodded approvingly as he received his own toast and eggs, "Has the post arrived yet?"

"Velda believes she glimpsed an owl in the distance as she was coming through."

The house elf barely had a chance to finish the sentence, Beatrice shot from her chair and out of the room, leaving her toast and a hasty 'Please excuse me, Daddy!".

She ran as fast as she could up the stairs, crossing her fingers as the went and whispering under her breath.  
The room she entered was large and spacious, with stone walls and wooden floor, and wooden beams across the ceiling, although much of the floor was scattered with feathers and curious grey pellets, rather like hairballs. She ran straight to the window and popped it open, fluttering in the distance was a rather strange flock of birds. As they came closer, it was clear they were owls. They landed on the windowsill, one tawny owl held in its claws a newspaper, "Daddy is downstairs," she told the owl, which stared at her in a manner which, had it not been an owl, might have looked disdainful, and went to sit in the beams.

The second owl she recognised as her mother's owl, Chess, a tall, handsome snowy owl, so named for the black check-like marks across her body. She carried a thick, important looking letter, and she swooped off through the house in search of her mistress.

The third owl clattered its beak importantly, it was a plump little barn owl, and in its talons was a thick, yellowish envelope. She reached out to take it and as she did so, the owl fluttered away. She barely noticed, her hands were shaking as she read the neat, businesslike lettering on the front.

_Beatrice Feeney_

_Shortedge House_

_Chudleigh_

_Devon_

Without even stopping to open it, she barrelled down the stairs, nearly flattening the house elf in the process.

"Daddy, Daddy it came!" She shrieked, waving the letter at him ecstatically, he beamed back at her, standing up and sweeping her into a hug. "Well done darling, I told you it would arrive sooner or later, shall we open it...?"

–

It was with some trepidation that Beatrice climbed the stairs to her mother's room, almost unconsciously she held her breath as she gently knocked, one could never judge the mood of Mrs Feeney from the other side of a door.

A thin woman with olive skin and dark brown hair, that fell in ringlets to her shoulders, answered the door, "Ah, Beatrice," she said, and smiled, instantly her face lit up and became far more pleasant.

"Mummy, I must show you, my letter arrived, it finally arrived!"

"Oh darling that's wonderful," Mrs Feeney kissed her daughter on the cheek, "Let me see, let me read,", she glanced at the letter, "Oh, Hogwarts, I thought I'd never see..." She didn't finish the thought before changing to a new train of thought, "We must go to Diagon Alley, you'll need a wand, and books and a cauldron, and-"

"Hogwarts robes!" Beatrice grinned gleefully, "Oh, Mummy, could I have an owl too? You and Daddy have owls, and I simply _must _have an owl to write home."

Beatrice never failed to be awed by Diagon Alley. In every way it contrasted everything she knew in her home. Tidy, manicured, constantly attended by house elves, that was the home she knew, Diagon Alley was the opposite. Dirty, muddled, crowded. Full of strange smells and sounds and sights. As they passed through The Leaky Cauldron a moment earlier she saw a burst of green fire under the mantlepiece as a couple and their son arrived by Floo powder and she had turned to look. Her mother had sniffed at that, for they had arrived by apparition. 'Far better than dirtying ourselves with ashes' she had told Beatrice. The family did seem rather ash-smeared as they brushed themselves off.

The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley refreshed the little bubble of excitement that had been threatening to burst inside Beatrice since she first saw her acceptance letter. She was _really_ going to Hogwarts!

Their first stop was Madam Malkin's. Beatrice could see from the moment she stepped in this would be pure torture. Madam Malkin bustled out from behind the door to the rear of the shop, and smiled, "My goodness, young Miss Feeney, it can't be your turn already!" She beamed, "Come on dear, step up on this stool, and we'll get you measured,". Beatrice gave her a forced smile as she stepped up.

_Imagine,_ Beatrice thought to herself crossly, as she was stretched and measured and poked, _making children stand so still when there is so much to __**do**_.

She gazed out the window as the robes were measured and Madam Malkin began making adjustments. The older witch chatted absent-mindedly, although Beatrice mostly ignored her. She could see older students grouping, marching from shop-to-shop buying their supplies, she could see children younger than her dragging their parents to look at broomsticks and owls, she even saw some nervously waving wands in the window of Ollivander's, first-years, surely.

"Beatrice, are you even listening?"

Her mother's sharp tone brought her back from her observations.  
"Sorry, Mummy," She apologised quickly, Madam Malkin was kneeling by her ankles, adjusting the hem of her robes. She glanced up and repeated what had clearly been her question.

"Are you looking forward to going to Hogwarts?"

"Oh yes," Beatrice gushed earnestly, "I've been looking forward to it since... forever! Daddy has always loved to show me magic, and as soon as I knew I could do it too I've been waiting for my letter to come, Daddy has told me everything, about the feasts and the Sorting, and the Forbidden forest, and-"

"Don't forget your lessons too, my dear," Madam Malkin chuckled, "Sorting eh? Which House do you think you'll be in?"

Beatrice opened her mouth to answer, but her mother cut in sharply, "Beatrice will be in Ravenclaw," She sniffed, "Feeneys are a long line of Ravenclaws, and the Druants on my side, it's what's expected of her."

Madam Malkin's smile faltered momentarily, before she smiled and nodded, "Oh, yes, it often runs in families, I was a Hufflepuff myself, clearly not as bright as the Ravenclaws," She tittered, "Oh, I remember in my second year, I met a Ravenclaw boy, Jacob, and he used to tell me that old Professer Kettleburn was keeping..."

Beatrice had stopped listening, she was thinking about the Sorting... would her mother really be so terribly cross if she was placed in the wrong house? What if she was a Hufflepuff, like Madam Malkin...? Or worse, her knees nearly trembled at the thought, what if she were a Slytherin?

She imagined her parents turning up at school to take her away, her mother tutting and shaking her head in shame at her daughter not being a Ravenclaw... her father's sparkling eyes sad and disappointed. No, she made up her mind, she would argue with the hat and _force_ it to put her in Ravenclaw.

"And that's you done, dear"

Madam Malkin waved her wand, and the newly fitted robes swept off Beatrice's body and folded themselves neatly in a box, Beatrice jumped down thankfully, eager to head on to the next shop.

"Come _on_ Mummy," she urged, "Let's go to the bookshop next, or the apothecary..."

Eventually, her mother paid, and Beatrice charged ahead. They entered the bookshop, Flourish &amp; Blotts, where Beatrice excitedly flipped through spellbooks, muttering the incantations under her breath as her mother sought out and paid for her new books.

Next to the apothecary, where Beatrice poked at the glittering beetles eyes, and peered in all the jars, wondering what each of them was, and what they did.

And so it went on, they bought scales and a cauldron, dragon hide gloves and sensible shoes, then into Ollivander's, where her usual excitement melted away into quiet nervousness, the handsome young Ollivander, taking over from his father before him, guided her through the rows, searching out the perfect wand for her. 'Maple and dragon-heartstring, eleven and a quarter inches, pleasantly springy' he had said, with a charming smile and an air of great satisfaction 'An excellent wand for Transfiguration,".

Finally, with all other items bought, "Now, Mummy," Beatrice begged, "_Please _may I get an owl,". Her mother looked tired, and rather irritated by the children charging up and down the street.

"Of course darling," She sighed, "So long as you're quick about choosing,"

Beatrice grabbed her mother's hand and practically dragged her towards Eeylop's Owl Emporium, where the darkened windows felt like they were staring out at her.

They hurried inside, and Beatrice strode the inside, peering in all the cages, wondering to herself which to buy.

_Perhaps a snowy owl, like Mummy's... or a barn owl, that's what delivered my Hogwarts letter, after all... _suddenly, one particular bird caught her eye.

"Oh Mummy, look at this one!" She called to her weary looking mother. The bird was large, round and grey, with a greyish-white, dish-shaped face and rather prominent ears, when it blinked, its eyelids were pink.

Behind her she heard a snigger, she spun around to see a boy about her own age, with dark eyes and dark hair, across the shop. He held in a small cage, the tiny grey scops owl he had just purchased, which twittered and ruffled its feathers. The boy saw her looking and, without any hint of pretense that he had been laughing at her, turned and walked out of the shop.

It took rather a lot of cajoling, convincing and begging. Beatrice's mother did not seem certain about the large, imposing bird with the long, curved talons and cruel beak, but eventually, she relented, and Beatrice proudly carried the owl out of the shop.

"Is that everything now Beatrice?" She asked, rather stiffly, as if daring her to say no. When Beatrice nodded her head, she indicated for her to hold her arm, as, with a crack like a whip, the mother and daughter, the shopping and the owl disappeared into thin air.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Wow, can't believe I've finally written the first chapter of IMWYG! That did not take me half as long to write as I thought it would!

This introduces Beatrice, who, I'll grant you, is a bit of a boring brat, which will become more evident later, especially Chapter 3 (if all goes as planned) of course, next chapter I introduce the other main character, I won't give the game away too much.

I'm intending to mostly follow Beatrice and the as yet unnamed (to you) second character through school, although I may skip a few years, because quite frankly I am not JKR and I do not think I have the motivation to write seven whole years into a story, but, you never know, maybe I'll be motivated.

Um... there'll be a lot of contrast between this chapter and the next one. I hate Diagon Alley chapters because there's always so few characters in the beginning of a story, especially with a very uptight mother. Madam Malkin was a Godsend because I want to have some interactions!

The next few chapters may be rather slow-going, as I am in the middle of my dissertation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

**August Leith**

The busy Bristol road outside roared and clattered, even as the sun was setting over the city, a greying old man stood outside, a little grey dog at the end of the lead in his hand. He glanced up at the window of the flat above him as the angry voice of a woman leaked from the second floor window, he hurried on, not wanting to be privy to the argument...

"Leith Jones, I don't know how you can sit there and lie to me,"

"Mum, I don't know what else to tell you, I didn't do it,"

A woman in a flowered dress, with greying, auburn hair, cut short but with a definite wave stood, hands on floral hips, glaring at the 11 year old boy sat in front of her. He had hair that just about reached his ears and fell untidily into his eyes, with the same wave, and dark, dark brown eyes. He slouched on the sofa sulkily as his mother bellowed.

"I don't know why you think I'd believe you over Mr Pankhurst, if he says you threw an egg at his window _seconds_ after he was finished telling you off for kicking the ball into his garden, I'm more inclined to believe him than you!"

Leith looked miserable, "I don't know what the point of even arguing is, you never believe me, of course you side with hi-"

The boy was cut off as the buzzer coughed loudly. Mrs Jones gave her son a warning stare and marched purposefully off. Despite his bad mood, Leith's ears pricked up as he heard a woman's voice on the other end.

"_Hello Mrs Jones, I'm here to speak to you about your son,"_

"Of course, come right up," Mrs Jones sighed and strode back into the living room with a face rather like a bulldog chewing on a wasp, in Leith's opinion anyway. She lowered her voice, "I don't know what you've done now, but go to your room right this second, and don't even think about coming out until I say otherwise,"

Leith huffed and slouched away into his bedroom. It was rather cramped, more of a matchbox than a bedroom, and the furniture all seemed rather old. The chest of drawers was scribbled on in felt tip on the bottom two drawers, there were stickers from old children's tv shows and comics stuck around the walls, the bed itself was blue and red, with a yellow bedspread, it all seemed rather _young_ for an eleven year old.

Leith flung himself down on his bed and strained his ears to try to hear what was happening, he heard their door open and his mother greeting someone, presumably the woman on the intercom.

He sighed and rolled onto his side, wondering who she could be. _The woman who owned the cat we chased last week, _he wondered internally, _or that old dear whose daffodils we broke when Alfie's bike brakes stopped working... _He frowned, it wasn't fair, every time anything went wrong, he got blamed for it. He really _hadn't_ thrown eggs at old Pankhurst's windows. He'd thought about it, he'd been angry enough to do it, but he hadn't thrown the eggs, he assumed it was one of the other kids in the neighbourhood, Pankhurst was always shouting at kids...

His train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door, it opened a little way, and Leith saw a stern looking old woman in a curiously pointed hat and long green robes step into the room. He wanted to say something, defend himself, but something about her face told him not to speak out of turn.

"I understand, Mr Jones, that you have been in rather a lot of trouble lately," She said finally, standing in the middle of his floor in front of where he sat on the bed.

"It's not my fault!" He burst out, "Everybody blames me, I don't know what happened, I didn't even throw the eggs at th-" But the old woman held up her hand.

"I believe you didn't mean to throw the eggs, but you did do it," Leith opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again at the look in her eye, "You see, you are a very special young man, may I sit down to explain?"

Leith nodded dumbly, the woman pulled a thin stick of wood out of her pocket, waved it once and immediately a wooden chair appeared from thin air! Leith's eyes grew large, and if he had not been so shocked he might have seen the tiniest smile on her face.

"Now, Mr Jones, my name is Professor McGonagall, I am the headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She waited for him to respond.  
"So... you think... I'm magic?" He said stutteringly.

"There's no 'think' about it," She said, with a hint of a smile, "There can be no mistake,"

"So... the rat that appeared on the teacher's desk...?" She nodded encouragingly, "And... and the eggs, and... the time Mum's hair fell out...?"

"If you wish to attend our school," She continued, "We will teach you how to control your magic, right now it's happening in bursts, you cannot control it and if left you could hurt someone, or expose the magic world to someone who isn't magic."

"I want to attend," he said, firmly, the first confident words he had spoken since she had entered, McGonagall nodded approvingly.

"And Hogwarts will be glad to have you, but you must swear not to tell anybody outside your immediate family. I have already spoken to your mother about this, I am aware your father is..." She paused, "No longer present, and we think it would be best not to involve him unless it becomes necessary," Leith nodded, she smiled a little, and continued "I feel we should go through and join your mother, and we can discuss what you shall need for school,"

...

Leith fought the urge to grab his mother's hand in apprehension as they stepped across the threshold. The friendly young barmaid in the grubby little pub had agreed to show them the passage into Diagon Alley, the place that Professor McGonagall had said most young wizards bought their supplies. The lady led them through into a small, cobbled back courtyard. She whipped out a rather short wand and, with Leith's eyes firmly glued to it, tapped one of the bricks on the wall.

Leith's mother leapt back in shock as the brick fell away and a gateway grew out of the brick. Leith's mouth dropped open, and the barmaid laughed and winked at him, "It's just a gateway from the other side, so don't worry about finding it on the way back," She said, and, with a smile, left them.

Leith was speechless, a curiously crooked street unfolded in front of them, with dozens of shoppers bustling about, most in curious cloaks and pointed hats. He tugged on his mother's hand, "Come on Mum," He said, excitedly. His mother stumbled after him, dumbfounded. Eventually she tugged the letter out of her handbag and said, stammeringly, "Um... we need to... exchange money first," Leith turned to look around, and the pair of them set off, Leith peering into every shop window at the robes and broomsticks and strange creatures within, or gazing up into the faces of every witch and wizard that hurried past him, his mother searching for anything that even resembled a bank.

After over an hour and a half of shopping, with many mistakes, including asking the assistant in the apothecary for a set of robes and nearly buying the wrong spellbooks in Flourish and Blotts, Leith and his mother were beginning to think they had maybe got the hang of this.

"What's next mum?" Leith asked, glancing a little warily at his mother. These past few days after McGonagall's visit she had been somewhat emotional. He supposed it was a bit of a shock for her but, when Leith considered his own feelings carefully, it somehow did not feel like as much of a surprise as he might have originally expected.

"Um..." His mother glanced at the list, then frowned and squinted, as if expecting to have read the item incorrectly, "A wand...?"

As they made their way into Ollivander's, the excitement that had been writhing in Leith's stomach fell still. The shop was dusty and still, the only light coming from a single candle and a cloudy, half-blocked window.

"Good morning," A tall young man, with light brown hair tied into a ponytail and smart brown robes stepped out from the back room. He appraised Leith with a glance and inclined his head slighly to the pair of them, "Your first wand, I presume,".

Leith and his mother nodded dumbly, as the man hunted through the shelves, "I am Mr Ollivander, the younger of course, my father retired last year," He said as he rifled through boxes, "Now, muggle-born, am I right?"

Leith glanced at his mother, "I'm sorry, what?" He asked, as politely as he could, Mr Ollivander seemed friendly, but there was an intimidating air of age about this shop.

"Your mother, and your father," Ollivander said, as he placed a bundle of long boxes on the counter, "Are not magical people,".

"Oh, no, it's just me," Leith said, nodding.

Ollivander was silent for a moment, before opening one of the boxes and withdrawing a wand, not dissimilar to the one McGonagall and the barmaid had used earlier. He gently handed it to Leith, who took it. Ollivander smiled, "Give it a wave, and don't worry, the muggle-born folk are sometimes the best wizards,"

Leith waved the wand. Nothing happened.

"Not to worry," Ollivander assured him, "We'll find one in the end,"

It took almost forty five minutes. Leith was strongly reminded of shoe-shopping with his mother, it seemed to go on forever, and he had no idea what Mr Ollivander was searching for, he was growing more and more weary of having a wand placed into his hand, only to be whisked away again and replaced, when suddenly,"

"I've got it!" Mr Ollivander exclaimed in glee, as he whipped yet another box off the shelf and placed it on the counter. He pulled out a fine, reddish brown wand and handed it to Leith, "Cherry and phoenix feather, 12 ¾ inches, supple, a very lovely wand."

Almost immediately, a shower of green and silver sparks spurted from the tip of the wand, Mr Ollivander smiled, "I knew we'd get there, you have a fine wand."

...

They were reaching the end of their trip, and the final item on the list.

"Each student may bring, if they wish, an owl, a cat or a toad." Mrs Jones read slowly. She had somewhat adjusted to the strangeness of her son's shopping list throughout the day, but occasionally items would surprise her.

Leith's eyes lit up, "Cool!" He said, gleefully, peering through the numbers of witches and wizards for anything that looked like it might sell owls or toads.

Eventually, they came across Eeylops Owl Emporium. Nervously, in case they were making some kind of mistake, they entered. The shop was dark, small candles burned on the walls, so the majority of the shop was cloaked in semi-darkness, all around there were cages of owls of every shape and colour. Tiny little pygmy owls, gazing with huge eyes at them as they passed, huge eagle owls ('experienced owners only') rattling the bars of the cage with their beaks.

"How much money do we have left, mum?" Leith asked, eyes wide.

"Um... twenty of the ga... gal... gold ones?" She said peering at the coins in her pocket "about twenty of the sickley-ones and... um... a lot of the bronze ones?"

Leith moved away from the tawny he had been looking wistfully at, with a price of 30 galleons dangling on his cage, when he spotted a little grey bird blinking stoically at him from across the shop with big, orange eyes.

"How much for that one?" He asked his mother, pointing at the bird. They were making their way over when a shopkeeper appeared, he was a short little man with a round face and not much whispy white hair covering his head, he blinked through square spectacles at them and said, "Oh yes, the little Scops, he's thirteen galleons,"

"But," Leith began, peering at the owl, "His tag says he's 25,"

The shopkeeper stammered, "Oh yes, yes, he's just gone on sale today, not changed the tag yet,"

As Mrs Jones went to the counter to pay for the little owl, Leith was left standing with the owl's cage in his hand. He was just trying to think of a name for his owl, when the bell above the door rang gently, and a woman and her daughter entered the shop. The woman was tall and well-dressed, and the girl had blonde curls and was wearing a pink skirt and white shirt. Leith wrinkled his nose slightly as she called her 'Mummy' over to look at a tawny bird.

He watched the girl darting around the shop, peering at all the owls, and he quietly formed the image of a rather rich and spoiled young girl about to go to school for the first time. He rather hoped they didn't share classes.

"Oh, Mummy, look at this one!," the girl shouted, making the Scops owl in Leith's hand jump in his cage and stare.

Leith sniggered derisively, the girl had confirmed his suspicion, as the owl she had picked out carried a price tag of almost 50 galleons, the most expensive bird in the shop. The girl turned and stared at him, and he looked unashamedly back.

"Leith, time to go," his mother called from the doorway, and Leith turned and, with the little scops owl in his hand, left the shop.

And by the time they had reached the gateway out of Diagon Alley, he had forgotten all about the girl.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Phew! I am so sorry this update was so late! I have now done my dissertation, I only have half an assignment and two exams left to do before I have finished university forever and ever and that is sad!

However, it will mean that aside from having a proper job I will have plenty of time to work on this. Expect it to be a little while before the next chapter, which will probably be quite long.

It's unlikely there will be many chapters from Leith's point of view after this, it will mostly be Beatrice's viewpoint, but you never know, we'll see how it goes.

Hope you enjoy, be nice please, this is my first ever Hogwarts story :)


	3. Chapter 3

In years to come, Beatrice Feeney would pass through the gateway to Platform 9 ¾ dozens of times, but she would never quite feel the same about it as she did her first time, her mother and father either side of her, as she pushed her trolley through, her trunk rattled and Kjal the milky eagle owl blinked sleepily in his cage.

On the other side of the gateway, Beatrice may have been forgiven for her initial thought that the platform was shrouded in darkness, which she later realised was the the hundreds of students milling around in their black Hogwarts robes.

She gazed up into the faces of the students and suddenly felt extremely small. She hesitated, but her father placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her through the crowd, which parted to allow her through.

Mr Feeney halted the trolley at the front of the train, and the conductor helped to unload it, he was a thin wizard with a severe face, and Beatrice was hesitant about handing over her possessions and Kjal to him, but her father smiled and pulled her away as her mother supervised the loading of her possessions.

"Nervous sweetheart?"

Beatrice felt extremely nervous, but she shook her head as bravely as she could, it wouldn't do to make a scene in front of everyone she thought, as a group of tall, rather grown-up looking girls swept past her.  
"I'll be fine, Daddy," She said waveringly and attempted a smile.

Mr Feeney beamed in return as his wife came to join them, they both hugged her, her mother smiled and kissed her, "Send us an owl once you've been sorted," She said, fussing and tugging Beatrice's coat straight, "We'll be waiting."

The students around had started to pile onto the magnificent steam engine, and Beatrice felt a surge of panic rise up in her stomach, she turned to hug her parents, but her father was already ushering her onto the train. She climbed up as the door was slammed behind her, and leaned out of the window, "Good luck darling," Her father called to her as he waved.

Beatrice felt panic rising in her stomach, she clutched her uniform in a bag in one hand and waved furiously out of the window, biting her tongue to hold back from crying. It was all happening so fast, her heart hammered against her chest and she felt as if she were shrinking from pure terror.  
As the train lurched forwards and slowly rattled into motion, her parents slid out of view, and the mass of waving parents became a blur in Beatrice's eyes.

In fear of being caught crying by another student, she quickly dashed into an empty compartment and feigned rummaging in her bag as she dabbed her eyes quickly with a handkerchief. So focused was she on her acting, she didn't hear the door slide open.

"Mind if we join you," Called a voice behind her, and Beatrice jumped and spun around, hastily stuffing the handkerchief up her sleeve.

"Um..." She said, but the girl who had spoken had already sat down.

She was a skinny, pale girl, with a multitude of freckles and wavy, dark brown hair, with her came a mousy, blonde girl who appeared at least three years younger than the others, and a short, Indian girl, with a round face, a broad smile and rather untidy black hair, which was escaping its ponytail. They all sat on the seats opposite Beatrice and glanced awkwardly about themselves.  
"Sorry, the others were filling up with older years," The freckly girl said apologetically, "You are a first year too, right? Only I saw you crying and thought..."

Beatrice, embarrassed and flustered, snapped "I wasn't crying," The three girls stared, "It was the soot from the train, got in my eyes,"

"Oh." The girl said sheepishly, glancing at her companions, "Well, you are a first year, right?"

Beatrice didn't answer, she simply nodded.

"Oh, good, well I'm Hannah Fleet," She said, smiling a little less now, "And this is Ophelia Baumgarten," She pointed at the mousy girl, who seemed to shrink even more and nodded shyly. The Indian girl smiled brightly, seemingly unperturbed by Beatrice's outburst, "And I'm Viveka Adani," She added, Beatrice nodded.

"I'm Beatrice," She said, "Beatrice Feeney, my father is Ivan Feeney, the racing broom designer," She said, sitting a little taller. The brown-haired girl's smile faltered again.

"Oh... so you're from a wizarding family?" She said, "I'm half-blood, Dad's a wizard, but Mum is a Muggle, Ophelia here is a pure-blood though,"

"Don't you speak?" Beatrice looked at the little Ophelia, "I haven't heard your name before, my dad knows all the pure-bloods near us, are you from abroad?"

"N... no," squeaked Ophelia, in a voice that might have been more suited to a pygmy owl than a person, "W... we d-don't see other w-wizards much," she stammered embarrassedly, looking at her shoes.

Hannah seemed to think it was time to change the conversation topic, because before Beatrice could answer, she quickly jumped in and said "So do you have any idea what house you want to be sorted into?"

A quiet pause lingered between the girls, Beatrice opened her mouth to speak, but not before Viveka brightly chirped, "My parents want me to be a Ravenclaw," She laughed, "But I think Hufflepuff would be the most fun, so much less pressure!"

Hannah laughed, "My dad was a Hufflepuff,"

"Do you think you'll be one too?" Viveka asked, but Hannah shook her head.

"Who knows, as long as I'm not a Slytherin!"

"S-Slytherins aren't all bad," Opelia piped up, "My mum was a Slytherin,".

Hannah faltered, before smiling brightly, "Of course not, but I definitely don't think I'm ambitious enough."

"Well, my parents were both Ravenclaws," Beatrice said proudly, "Mummy says she wouldn't hear of me being in any other house."

Ophelia looked surprised, "You must be ever so clever, to be from a Ravenclaw family." Beatrice paused.

"Um, yeah," She nodded, "Daddy says..."

But the girls would never find out what Mr Feeney said, because at that moment, the compartment door slid open, and two faces appeared.

One of the boys was round-faced and pleasant looking, he had a sheepish grin and light brown hair cut just a little too short for his face.

"Oh, um... sorry.." he muttered, turning rather pink and making to shut the door and leave, but the other boy put his hand on the door and held it open.

"Room for two more?"

He was rather short and spoke with something of a West Country twang, what Mrs Feeney might have called a 'common' accent. Beatrice eyed his forlorn mop of wavy, dark hair, his chewed fingernails and hand with several half-healed cute and his robes, clean but with clear signs of wear. He looked like one of the common Muggle children that lived in the town, and she was sure he looked familiar.

Viveka smiled and nodded, "Budge up everyone, there's some space," she said, to Beatrice's horror, and the girls all squeezed up to allow them in.

"So who are you two?" Hannah asked, as the long haired boy took the seat next to her, and the other squashed in next to Beatrice. She shuffled as close to the window as possible.

"I'm Leith, Leith Jones," the boy next to Hannah said, inclining his head slightly.

The round-faced boy added, "And I'm Tom Fitch,".

The girls all nodded, and Hannah said "I'm Hannah, this is Viveka, Ophelia and Beatrice," She gestured vaguely at the three other girls as she introduced them, "We were just discussing houses,"

"Houses?" Leith said, frowning, "Like form groups?"

The girls all looked at each other, Beatrice sniffed derisively to herself, he was muggle-born, of course, that explained it.

"Not quite," Tom piped up, "At Hogwarts you live, eat, sleep and go to classes with your housemates, and you're assigned a house based on your personality,"

"Like what?"

"Hufflepuff!" burst Viveka, "Where they are just and loyal,"

"Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, and unafraid of toil," Hannah sang, giggling.

"And Gryffindor," Tom nodded, "Where dwell the brave at heart,"

Leith looked somewhat concerned, "Is there a house for the arseholes?"

Viveka, Ophelia and Hannah all laughed a little, while Tom shook his head, "They focus on the good things," He said, "I guess there's an even distribution of arseholes. They used to say Slytherin were a rotten lot, but that's just superstition these days,"

"So how do you get sorted? Is it like a test?"

Beatrice snorted and piped up, "Of course not. The sorting hat sorts you, it looks in your head and works out where you should be, everybody knows that."

_Where you should be._ Beatrice repeated to herself, thoughtfully, as the conversation went back into a comparison of houses. A little knot formed in her chest as she thought about it. Ravenclaw. _Where those of wit and learning will always find their kind. _

She didn't feel particularly witty. A fretful thought repeated over and over in her head. _What if I'm not meant to be a Ravenclaw._

"Hello... Beatrice?"

Beatrice looked up, Viveka was waving a hand in front of her zoned-out eyes. She blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"You need to get changed, we had better get ready while there's still plenty of time."

Beatrice nodded and grabbed her bag containing her school uniform. Viveka added, "The boys are just leaving, we'll get changed in here."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

I want to thank the people who have been reviewing my, albeit sparse, chapters. I really appreciate all the kind words and, rest assured, this story has not been abandoned. It is a loooong project and it will take me a long time so I take my time over it. However, reviews remind me to write my daily words, so if you want the next chapter fast, woo for reviews! ;)

This chapter is not especially exciting and I do apologise for that, I had to introduce some characters, say some things, plant some ideas. The literary mortar between the bricks of excitement. I can promise you the fun of the arrival at Hogwarts, the Sorting, a feast, the first day at school and maybe even a little mini-first-year-drama :P


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was turning dark when the two boys returned to the girls' carriage, Hannah, Viveka, Ophelia and Beatrice were all dressed in their black Hogwarts robes. Tom had changed also, while Leith, who had been wearing his robes earlier, was eagerly breaking into a large box of Every Flavour Beans.

Beatrice looked up from the magazine she was reading, and back down again when she saw the muggle-born staring at the moving photograph of Arion Blest, the handsome singer from The Centaurs, on the cover, strutting and posing.

"What's that!?" shrieked Ophelia as she pointed violently out the carriage window, and Beatrice jumped in shock at the volume from the previously quiet girl.

The girls all huddled by the window, the boys leaned over to have a look, even Beatrice peered curiously, only to see a dark, hulking mass looming over the distant countryside. Perched between two mountains, purple in the rising moonlight. Tiny pinpricks of orange light winked all over it.

"It's Hogwarts," gasped Tom, and Viveka, who seemed rather exciteable, gave a squeak of excitement, and Beatrice stared at the colossal building, "It's huge," She said, with a hint of worry in her voice, Ophelia smiled at her, "It seems big now," the little witch said kindly, "But we'll all know every inch soon,"

Beatrice nodded, "Yes, Daddy says it's huge, and you have to learn fast,"

Tom laughed, "That's true, trick steps, vanishing staircases, it keeps you on your toes," Hannah turned to look at the round-faced wizard.

"How do you know so much about it?"

Tom shook his head, "Three brothers came here before me, I feel like I know it back to front without ever setting foot there!"

The group chattered happily about the magnificent castle, but one by one, as it drew closer, they fell into silence. Beatrice noticed that Leith was looking rather pale, and she thought about saying something to him, but he also looked a little like he might be sick, so she thought better of it.

She simply stared at the castle, feeling the train begin to slow as the first houses of Hogsmeade began to draw into sight, the warm light from their windows inviting and comforting as the first spits of rain from the low black sky began to blot the windows.

As the train pulled through the town, a tall boy with red hair appeared at the door of the carriage, "First years?" He asked, in a half-hearted way that suggested he hadn't asked for the job he'd been given. The group all nodded, he pointed down the carriage, "Get off at the first door on your left once the train pulls into Hogsmeade station, and wait for further instructions." He said, before moving off to the next carriage, leaving the first-years staring after him.

When the train finally crawled to a stop, the rain had taken hold and was beating down on the roof of the train. The first-years wordlessly scrambled for their bags and Leith scooped the remainder of his sweets from his lap and into his pocket. The boys scuttled out, leaving the girls to grab their possessions. Beatrice, heart thumping with nerves, rolled up her Charmed magazine, to the irritation of the photographic Arion Blest, who slouched sulkily off the page as she stuffed it into her bag. Ophelia and Viveka had already departed, but Hannah waited a moment for her to catch up. Beatrice nodded gratefully as the two girls disembarked and, in the milling crowd of black robes, rain and excitement, pressed together for fear of becoming lost.

"Firs' years!"

A thunder-voiced giant of a man with a tangle of beard hiding his fact strode towards them, swinging a glowing lantern and dripping from the bleak downpour that soaked the students. Beatrice had heard about the Hogwarts gamekeeper from her parents, but even so, she quailed as his booming voice called again, "Firs' year this way, this way to the boats,"

"Come on," Called Hannah, and Beatrice spotted Ophelia amongst the little gathering of students following the giant. The two girls hurried squelchily to join them.

Hagrid led them along a shaded path, surrounded on either side by broad reaching trees, the rain and the fallen leaves made the path slippery and treacherous, but the group walked slowly. A few students whispered, but for the most part all remained solemnly silent, as the rain persisted, drenching their robes and hair, even through the thick tree canopy.

Beatrice looked around her, many of the other students looked frightened, Ophelia looked as if she may be about to pass out, even Viveka's mouth was drawn tight with nerves. Beatrice's own stomach was heavy with butterflies, which leapt into life when they rounded a corner to see a vast black loch. Several tiny wooden boats bobbed on the surface.

"E'rybody into a boat," Hagrid called, ushering the first-years forward and they clambered into the little boats, there was enough room for perhaps four or five students per boat. Beatrice clambered into one and was swiftly joined by Ophelia, a girl with curly red hair and copious freckles, and a wide-faced boy with fluffy black hair and robes that hung off at odd angles, clearly far too big for him.

Without so much as a word from the gamekeeper, who was taking up an entire boat to himself, the boats began moving off of their own accord, bobbing silently across the rain-speckled lake.

"Yeh'll see Hogwarts in a moment," he said, and, as they rounded a rocky outcrop, the castle appeared, looming over them like a huge stormcloud, black and intimidating. But the orange light from the doors and windows looked welcoming, and the first-years gasped and stared, wide-eyed, at the spectacle. Even Beatrice was breathless gazing at it, with its tall spires and battlements, it seemed bigger than Hogsmeade all on its own.

An owl flew from between two towers, it swooped towards the first years, circled the lake and disappeared silently into the night.

The children sailed under an arching opening in the cliff, clearly underneath Hogwarts itself, and the boats glided to a stop at a small stone platform, where a flight of stone steps led up to the castle door.

Hagrid chivvied them off the boats, and the first-years all stood, huddled and shivering from the cold and the wet, and stared up at him as the last of them, the dark-haired boy who had been on Beatrice's boat, clambered off.

"Now, yeh'll follow me ter the entrance hall," He said gruffly, "And yeh'll be met there by one of the professors, and they'll take yer to be Sorted."

The first years nodded, and Hagrid gave a little smile, "Don't ye be worryin', now follow me," and he began to head up the stone steps, leading to a magnificent oaken door. He gave three booming raps on the door with his gigantic fist, and it swung open. A smiling, fair-haired man's face appeared, he wore bottle green robes and had an angular face that, nonetheless, held a little too much weight about the chin, which told of a sedentary lifestyle.

"Professor," Hagrid nodded, "The firs' years, all safe and sound,"

"My, my Hagrid," The professor said with a smile, "They look like you made them swim here!" He laughed a little at his own joke. "Come in, come in," He said, stepping aside to allow the first years in. They pressed forwards, and Beatrice was pleasantly surprised by how warm it was inside the entrance hall, lit torches flamed on the walls and long, high windows rattled in the windows, but despite being stone, the hall was magnificently comfortable. Before the students, a huge staircase swept up to the higher floors, flanked by suits of armour.

"Right, I'll jus' be off, need to shut the chickens up 'fore I join the feast.' Beatrice heard Hagrid call behind them, the light-haired professor nodded.

"Of course, thank you Hagrid."

Hagrid disappeared back into the rain, shutting the door behind him, and the first years all looked at the professor.

"Good evening first-years," He said, "My name is Professor Radburn, I'm the current head of Hufflepuff house. Now, in a moment you will go through these doors," He indicated a set of ornate wooden double doors to his left, "And you will be Sorted, your name will be read out, you will proceed to the stool, where you will sit and have the Sorting Hat placed on your head. Once your house has been called, you will join your house table. Are there any questions?"

The first years shook their heads.

"That's fine then, I will return when they are ready for you."

And with that, the first years were left alone in the entrance hall. Beatrice shifted uncomfortably in her wet robes, though, with the warmth of the castle, it was at least somewhat less chilling.

Gradually, a buzz of conversation started up around them, Beatrice found Viveka standing by her side. "Nervous?" She asked. Beatrice nodded.

"Well, what's the worst that can happen?"

"I could be put in the wrong house, my parents would be terribly cross if I'm not placed in Ravenclaw..."

"Well, tell it you want to be a Ravenclaw then." Viveka said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?"

"The Sorting Hat... it will put you in your best suited house, but it takes your choice into account too."

"It does?" Beatrice felt a load lifted from her chest, "I can ask to be a Ravenclaw?"

"If that's what you really want."

"Ravenclaw?" Came a sneer from beside them, "You'd have to be pretty smart to be a Ravenclaw. You know they don't have a password on their common room, you have to answer a riddle, and if you get it wrong, you have to sleep out in the corridor, with the ghosts wandering around you."

It was the dark-haired boy from her boat, he looked Beatrice up and down. "Not everybody is fit to be a Ravenclaw."

Beatrice frowned as he stared at her, he wasn't telling the truth, of course, he was just trying to scare her, she decided. She chose not to dignify his taunt with an answer, and caught Viveka's arm to lead her to where Hannah and Ophelia were talking, when a voice made her stop.

"Oh my, my, my, I'm terribly sorry, this just won't do,"

The fair-haired Professor Radburn had returned, and he looked flustered. "I'm so sorry, here, let me take care of that,"

He drew his wand from his pocket and flicked it once in the direction of the young students. To their surprise they found their robes, hair and shoes growing dryer until, though somewhat creased and muddy around the hems, they were at least bone dry and considerably warmer.

"There, now we all look a little less like drowned nifflers, we are ready for you in the Great Hall." He said, with something of a smile as the colour drained out of the first-years' faces once more.

The Great Hall was magnificent. As Beatrice trotted after Professor Radburn, amongst the little pack of nervous eleven year olds, she was stunned by the size of the room. It was immense, cathedral-like and basked in warm orange glow from the fire and the torches that blazed merrily and cast dancing shadows on the wall. High above them, Beatrice saw the enchanted ceiling, black and moody, raining down droplets that magically evaporated long before touching the heads of the thousands of students lined up on the tables that stretched the length of the room. It truly was an awesome sight.

Ahead, on the raised floor where the teachers sat, stood a small, three-legged wooden stool, and upon that was the Sorting Hat, a tattered, patched and frayed old hat, and as they approached, the rip at the brim opened.

_Welcome, brand-new first years,_

_To Hogwarts School tonight,_

_Your future falls into my brim,_

_And I wish to get it right._

_For though I am a simple hat,_

_I've quite a lot to say,_

_The duty falls to me again_

_To Sort you all today. _

_To Hufflepuff some of you go,_

_To work both hard and true,_

_There is nothing in this world_

_A Hufflepuff can't do._

_And Slytherin for some of you,_

_Ambitious, bright and keen,_

_Is cunning what you pride the most?_

_In Slytherin, you'll be._

_To Ravenclaw the brightest go,_

_To diligently strive,_

_If wit you seek, in Ravenclaw,_

_Your future comes alive._

_And Gryffindor, the boldest,_

_If bravery and pride,_

_Set you apart from all the rest,_

_To Gryffindor you'll stride._

_So let's begin, there's much to learn_

_And wrongs yet to be righted,_

_Enjoy the year, and ever more_

_Shall Hogwarts stand united._

The hat finished its song, and both the students and staff gave an applause, and if she hadn't been so nervous, Beatrice might have been rather amused, fancy a singing hat...

"When your name is called," Professor Radburn was saying at the front, "Please step forward and place the hat on your head, and take a seat."

The first years stared at the hat. "Adani, Viveka,"

Viveka, trembling slightly, stepped slowly forwards, Professor Radburn placed the hat on her head, it fell over her eyes and nearly to her chin, as she sat on the little stool. It was still and silent for several moments before suddenly shouting aloud to the school, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left burst into rapturous applause, a dark haired boy wooped as Viveka, looking a little stunned, ran to join them.  
"Adaos, Tracy,"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Alistair, Adam," also became a Hufflepuff, while "Banes, Douglas," became the first Slytherin.

"Baumgarten, Ophelia,"

Little Ophelia was shaking like a leaf as she stumbled up the stairs to the stool. When the hat, after remaining silent for almost a minute, shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" she sat stock still, with a shocked look on her face, until Professor Radburn removed the hat and she tripped on wobbly legs to the seat beside Viveka.

"Danes, Emily"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Daniels, Elizabeth"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Elliott, Justin,"  
"RAVENCLAW!"

"Feeney, Beatrice,"

Beatrice felt her heart jump into her throat, she didn't move. Someone behind her prodded her in the back and she staggered forwards and up the steps. It seemed to take forever.

The next moment, she was sitting on the stool with the hat over her eyes, and a little voice was whispering in her ear.  
_You seem to know what you want already._

Ravenclaw. Beatrice thought desperately. I'm meant to be in Ravenclaw.

_Ravenclaw._ The hat said, thoughtfully. _An unusual choice for someone like you. I remember your mother, she was a Ravenclaw, and your father was a Ravenclaw too. But you aren't like them. No, not at all..._

Please, I have to be a Ravenclaw. Beatrice felt panic rising in her.

_Are you sure that's what you want? _The hat murmered, with a sly tone that frightened her a little.

With all her heart, she wished that it was so. Yes, she thought desperately, she concentrated all her mind on the certainty that she was a Ravenclaw. Not a disappointment, she was like her parents, she was a Ravenclaw. She would work hard and prove herself.

And yet, in the back of her mind, a tiny voice, barely more than a whisper over her desperate pleas, piped up. It was small, it was insignificant, and it was insistent. And it said 'No'.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She couldn't have heard that right... There must be some mistake. Beatrice sat, denying the hat had placed her in Gryffindor. No, she thought, I was meant to be in Ravenclaw. Her father's face flashed before her eyes as Professor Radburn lifted the hat from her head.

"Join your table please," He said, ushering her off the stool. Numbly, she stumbled down to Viveka, Ophelia and the other cheering Gryffindors, a tall boy with a wide grin patted her on the shoulder and held out a hand, "Well done," He said as she mindlessly shook it, "You looked like you couldn't believe your luck up there,", before she could answer, he turned to shush the other members of his house. "Shuddup you lot, that's my baby brother just been called up,"  
Tom Fitch was striding up to the stool, looking considerably less confident than on the train. However, no sooner had the hat touched his head than it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

He came running over to the table and squeezed between Beatrice and his brother, "I got in Dave," His brother laughed, "I knew you would, now I can bully you at school as well as at home,"

Tom gave an exaggerated sigh of disgust, and Ophelia looked concerned, though Dave Fitch winked reassuringly at her, then turned to cheer as Hannah Fleet joined their table.

"Wow," said a red-haired girl, whose pointed hat was held in place on her wavy hair with several sparkly hair clips, "Lots of new Gryffindors this year,".

And it didn't stop there, while three new Slytherins, two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw were called, another two Gryffindor boys joined the table.

"Jones, Leith,"

Leith, once upon the stool, sat there for the longest time of all of them. Beatrice was beginning to wonder if he was going to be placed at all. She even wondered if he were actually magic at all, when the hat came to a decision, and moments later he had joined them at the Gryffindor table, Tom thumped him on the back cheerfully.

"Liskard, Acacius,"

The dark-haired boy that had taunted Beatrice sauntered forwards, he looked straight at her before the hat fell over his face. Dave Fitch snorted beside them, "That's Bruno Liskard's son, he has a twin brother and sister in my year, they're an old family, Slytherins. Bet he's one too."

But he turned out to be wrong, the hat bellowed, "RAVENCLAW!" Across the hall, and Acacius swaggered to their table, looking very pleased with himself.

As the sorting went on and the number of unsorted first-years began to dwindle, Beatrice retreated into her thoughts. What could she say to her mother? What would they do? Would they come and take her away from school?

She looked at the Gryffindors on her table, they didn't look unfriendly exactly, but she watched them, talking amongst themselves, two boys were engaged in transfiguring their spoons into maracas, and shook them wildly whenever a Gryffindor joined their table.

Beatrice could not see her mother approving of her being placed with these people. 'Common scruff' she would call them.

At last "Walklet, Harry," was placed into Hufflepuff and silence fell at the table, the spoons were quickly returned to their original shape, and a stern looking witch stood up.

"Greetings all first-years, congratulations on a successful sorting, I am your Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. I'm sure you are all hungry from the journey and I will keep this short. To all students, I wish to remind you that the Forbidden Forest remains out of bounds, even to those who are misguided into believing that an assignment on werewolves requires you to look for one." She paused here and glared at the Hufflepuffs.

"I also wish to remind the Quidditch captains that tryouts must be arranged before the 31st September, and should not be left until the night before a match. Now, please enjoy your feast, thank you,"

As she sat, suddenly food appeared before the students, making some of the first years gasp. Even Beatrice, in her melancholy mood, was impressed by the sheer quantity, though she found she had little appetite. Heaps of sausages, hams, venison, beef, duck, bacon, chicken, mountains of mashed potatoes, chips, jacket potatoes, roast potatoes, peas, carrots, parsnips, cabbage, gravy, pumpkin juice... it all glowed warmly in front of the students' hungry faces, and they dug in. While Beatrice nibbled limply at her chips, Viveka, Hannah and Ophelia were all excitedly discussing the sorting.

"The hat thought I might be a Ravenclaw," Said Hannah proudly, "But that I had other qualities to develop,"

Viveka nodded, "It knew right away I was a Gryffindor, but..." She paused, "Beatrice, I thought you were going to ask to be a Ravenclaw, what happened?"

"Yeah," said Hannah, nodding and turning to Beatrice.

"You were so positive about it," Ophelia chimed in.

Beatrice snapped, "Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" The girls looked at each other, looking somewhat hurt, and began talking to Leith and Tom about what lessons might be like.

"Are you alright pint-size?" Tom's brother Dave attempted to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.

"Fine, leave me alone,"

She felt him exchange a glance with Tom, and then the red-haired girl opposite him, but he said no more.

As the feast faded away and was replaced by mountains of ice cream, fruit pies, cakes and meringues, Beatrice was forming a plan. One way or another, she would be changed over to Ravenclaw, she decided. She could beg Professor McGonagall, surely the sorting wasn't so important that the Headmistress could not override the hat's decision?

The last dregs of the desserts vanished from the plates with a little pop, and Professor McGonagall stood again, "Prefects, if you would lead your first-years to the dormitories, Head Boy and Girl, I wish to speak to, if they would remain behind,"

The red-haired boy from the train, and a slim, pretty blonde girl stood, "First year Gryffindors," the girl called, "Please follow me,"

The first-years, yawning and slumping from the long journey and full stomachs, slouched after her, except Beatrice, whose mind was still whirring. As the first-years from each House filed out of the Great Hall, the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins were led to the left, whereas both the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors walked directly up the grand staircase to the higher floor.

And that was when Beatrice's idea hit her...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Now, firstly, I want everybody to give me a round of applause for writing the hat song. I was totally ready to skip it, but then I was like 'what the heck, let's go for it' and I'm totally proud of the hat song.

Secondly, sorry I didn't fit as much into this as I hoped. Sorting takes forever, so I couldn't fit in the first day, just means more chapters for you in the future.

Thirdly, I want no complaints about the fact I put the characters in Gryffindor, I did it mostly for practical reasons. Initially Viveka was going to be a Ravenclaw and Hannah and Ophelia Hufflepuffs, but I want my characters to maximise time together and I simply can't do what I need to do if I have to keep splitting them up from each other to eat, have classes, sleep, Quidditch-related stuff and at any point after curfew. Also, Gryffindor common room is the one we are all intimately familiar with, and so it is far, far easier to write about it than, say, the Hufflepuff common room. So forgive me, they're all in Gryffindor. There will be other important non-Gryffindor characters too.

Thank you SO much to everybody who has viewed and reviewed, it makes me so pleased to see people checking it out, and I feel this is my best chapter so far, onwards and upwards! :D


	5. Chapter 5

By the time the opportunity presented itself, Beatrice was so nervous she was almost ready to abandon the whole plan, but she steeled herself and, as the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were led down a narrow corridor, she slipped silently out of her own line and into the throng of whispering Ravenclaws. Just in time, as the two groups split off and the Ravenclaws headed up a flight of stairs, then another. Beatrice concluded that the common room must be in one of the towers as they headed up a spiral staircase to a door with an eagle-shaped knocker.

The Ravenclaw prefect, a thin, smiling boy with long dark hair and square spectacles, turned to them.

"Now, new Ravenclaws, this is the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room," He gestured at the door, "Most common rooms have a secret password, but Ravenclaws are special, our wit is what we pride the most and so to keep you all on your toes every Ravenclaw must answer a riddle in order to enter the common room. If you fail, you must wait until you or another House member knows the answer."  
Beatrice was rather taken aback, she would much rather have had a password, she had never been very good at riddles, she was just wondering if there was a way around having to answer the eagle's riddle when suddenly...

"Feeney!"

A voice called out behind her, and all the Ravenclaws spun around in surprise, as did Beatrice.

Standing in the corridor was Tom Fitch's brother, staring at her. The Ravenclaws were staring too and she felt herself blush.

"Ophelia said she saw you walk off with the Ravenclaws," Dave said, his gaze unrelenting.

"I... I was confused..." Beatrice stammered, flushing bright pink, "Our groups got muddled in the hallway."

It wasn't a total lie, Beatrice told herself. But Dave looked unconvinced, however before he could respond, the Ravenclaw prefect said, "You should have spoken up, students aren't allowed in other houses' common rooms,".

Beatrice bit her lip and looked at her shoes, and the prefect added, in a softer voice, "Dave, if you could take Miss Feeney back to her own common room, I think she would be most grateful,"  
Dave nodded and turned on his heel, gesturing to Beatrice. Beatrice shuffled after Dave, not daring to look at him, she knew he guessed she had left the Gryffindors on purpose. He walked on in silence, their footsteps echoing in the now relatively empty halls, Beatrice did not raise her eyes from her feet.

As they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, he spoke, "You really mustn't take the houses too seriously," they turned to the left and down another flight of stairs, "We make a big deal about it because it's tradition, but being a Gryffindor doesn't mean you're not clever, or loyal, or ambitious. The Sorting Hat makes a decision because it has to, it doesn't decide who you are,"

Beatrice looked the older student in the eyes, he smiled kindly, but she still felt rather ashamed.

They arrived at a portrait of a rather plump lady and Dave, rather absent-mindedly, called out '_craneflies_'. This was apparently the password, as the portrait swung forwards to reveal a large room filled with students. For a moment she thought the walls were painted red, but after a moment she realised it was simply covered in red tapestries, hangings, paintings, curtains and other decorations, most featuring a lion. Several large squashy armchairs sat in front of a fire, where two older students were playing a game of exploding snap.

"The other first years are in bed," Dave said to her, "First door on your left. Try to stay out of trouble Feeney." And with that, he went to sit on the rug next to the exploding snap players, and Beatrice headed upstairs.

ooo

As she came to the door, she heard whispers behind it, which hurriedly shushed as she turned the handle and walked in.

"Beatrice, where were you?" Viveka asked, she was sitting on her four-poster bed with a copy of 'Teen Witch' open on her lap, "Ophelia said she saw you with the Ravenclaws, Leith told Tom's brother, did he find you? Were you lost?"

Beatrice sniffed as she picked up her nightcase and walked into the bathroom, "Thanks a lot Ophelia," and shut the door behind her.

She was feeling distinctly angry as she splashed water on her face, angry with the Sorting Hat for placing her wrongly, angry with Ophelia and that muggleborn Leith for blabbing, angry with Dave for embarrassing her in front of the Ravenclaws.

But, the thought occurred, as she scrubbed her teeth, perhaps it wasn't all lost. Now she knew how to get to the Ravenclaw common room, and what's more, she knew it didn't have a password, and surely anybody clever enough could guess the answer to a riddle?

It was with a feeling of satisfaction that she slipped on her nightdress, it wasn't a lost cause after all, she would simply join the Ravenclaws in the morning, then she could write to her parents and tell them she was in Ravenclaw, and they wouldn't be disappointed after all. She unlocked the bathroom door and slipped to her bed, the other girls had fallen quiet and their curtains were drawn. Beatrice climbed into the capacious bed and drew the red curtains shut around her.

She lay in the dark thinking about tomorrow, she saw herself triumphantly sat in the Ravenclaw common room, her parents' proud faces, they would send letters to all the family proclaiming that she was another true Ravenclaw Feeney.

Beatrice didn't know when she finally fell asleep, but when she awoke, dawn was breaking through the thick curtains and as she pulled them back, she saw something that immediately shattered her well-laid plan...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I'm terribly sorry for the delay, and also the fact that this is a very short chapter. I have been job hunting and it has been taking up most of my time. This chapter is short because a) I have a cold and didn't feel up to writing a lot, but wanted to post something, and b) this seemed like a convenient place to stop this section. I'll probably add another, longer chapter tomorrow as I have very little to do with my day.

Ah, in case you can't tell, I love Tom Fitch's brother. In my mind at the moment Dave doesn't play a big part in the story, but the small parts he does play will be savoured by me, because he is the ultimate lovely-yet-an-arse big brother.


	6. Chapter 6

IMWYG 6

"What's this?" Beatrice picked up the robes laid out on the chair beside her bed, "These aren't mine, mine are black,".

Hannah's sleep-tousled head peeked through her own bed hangings, she squinted blearily at the robes Beatrice was holding.

They were black, but now featured a red and gold crest on the left breast, with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned in the centre. The hood had a red stripe too, and the tie, she now realised, featured red and gold stripes.

Hannah shrugged, "Magic I suppose, must have been changed in the night to fit your house,". Viveka hopped out of bed to examine her own, and Ophelia held up her own tie to confirm that hers too had been changed. The fifth member of their dormitory, a rather plump girl with short black hair who Beatrice recognised from the Sorting emerged from bed and said "The house elves probably did it in the night."

So it was with a considerably darker mood that Beatrice threw on her Gryffindor robes and traipsed after the others to the Great Hall. The icing on the cake came as she helped herself to fruit salad and three boys joined them. Tom, Leith and a third boy, who Beatrice did not recognise.

"Hey guys," the third boy called enthusiastically as they headed over, though he immediately tripped, apparently over his own feet and nearly topped to the ground, had Leith not seized the back of his robes and hauled him upright.

Beatrice did not look at the boys and made no conversation as they joined the girls, the third boy, it transpired, was named Alfred Saxon, though the boys referred to him as Alfie, Hannah, Viveka and Ophelia soon joined in.

Alfred was almost too cheerful, despite his show of clumsiness, followed soon after by a dropped sausage and a nearly-broken plate, he showed no embarrassment and continued to chat happily.

"So Feeney," Beatrice looked up, Leith was addressing her, though the others were still discussing their timetables, "What were you doing wandering off with the Ravenclaws last night?"

Beatrice shrugged, irritated, "I was lost,".

Leith gave her a look reminiscent of Dave the night before, " Its just, if I didn't know better..." He began, but Beatrice cut him off.

"Well, clearly you don't know better," She snapped and angrily poured a glass of pumpkin juice, aware that the others were now watching the exchange. Leith looked distinctly ruffled, "I don't know what your problem is with Gryffindor, but its going to be a bloody hard seven years if you're going to be such a snob about it."

Alfred jumped in at that point, in an attempt to change the topic, "So do we all have transfiguration first thing then?"

Leith nodded and the first years struck up a conversation about what they would be learning. Beatrice pushed her plate away in silence.

How dare he call her a snob? Who was he to talk? They all spoke about Gryffindor as if it were some kind of achievement. What did bravery get you? Killed, Beatrice thought, thinking of all the heroes killed in battle, what did bravery mean if you weren't clever?

This thought, however, was swiftly interrupted by Alfred, who was demonstrating a wand motion he had read about, and caught Beatrice's pumpkin juice with his elbow. The orange drink splashed across the table, catching both himself, and to her fury, Beatrice.

As the juice soaked into her robes, Beatrice flung herself from the table with a yell of anger, she snatched up her bag and without another word, stalked out of the Great Hall.

The other first years looked at each other, Alfred looked a little embarrassed. "I should go apologise," he said quietly, but the others shook their heads.

"Alfie mate, I don't think it would make a difference," Leith said, giving the door of the Great Hall a dark stare.

Beatrice strode up the stairs towards the transfiguration corridor, several older students chattered past her but paid her no attention, with a tissue from her bag she attempted to dab off the worst of the pumpkin juice as she walked. That clumsy moron, she thought as the tissue turned bright orange.

But her thoughts were interrupted as she turned into the transfiguration room and a loud twittering alerted her to the presence of an owl. With delight she realised it was a very familiar owl indeed.

Kjal flew to her, landing on the back of a chair.

"Clever boy," she cooed, tickling him under the beak and taking the letter he carried. With a hoot, he took off again and disappeared through the open window.

The letter turned out to be from Mrs Feeney, and Beatrice tore it open in excitement.

_Dearest Beatrice,_

_Your owl arrived at the house last night so I thought I should write. I hope this letter gets to you before your lessons begin, your father and I are extremely proud of you so please work hard._

_Do write back soon, tell us all about the sorting and your lessons and your friends._

_All our love,_

_Your mother and father_

Beatrice felt a wave of guilt wash over her. Her parents would be crushed if they found out she had been put into Gryffindor. She resolved to find a way to make them proud, but in her stomach a knot of worry about what Leith had said was twisting tighter. Snob.

At that moment, Professor Radburn walked into the room, he jumped when he spotted the first year poring over the letter.

"My goodness! Miss Feeney is it?" Beatrice nodded, "A keen student, you're early,".

Beatrice did not answer, but rather nodded again and returned to her mother's letter, while Professor Radburn began laying ribbons on each table and shuffling papers. Beatrice ignored him largely, though he muttered to himself frequently.

After about ten minutes, Ophelia, Hannah and Viveka arrived. Professor Radburn greeted them and told them they would be working in pairs for this lesson.

Hannah and Viveka sat together, while Ophelia joined Beatrice, they sat quietly while students filed in slowly. Finally, Ophelia said "I-I'm sorry for t-telling Dave to find you last night." She didn't meet Beatrice's eye, "I was worried you'd g-get lost."

Beatrice was silent for a moment, then said "It's okay, thanks for not telling a teacher.".

"S-so you did go off on purpose?" She said in a hushed voice, glancing around, but the other students were in conversation. Beatrice nodded a little, and Ophelia looked sad.

"Do you think being a Gryffindor is really that bad?" Ophelia asked. Beatrice shook her head.

"It's fine for you people, it doesn't matter where you go, but my parents will be angry, Ravenclaws are clever and successful, if I'm not that, I'm not a real Feeney."

Ophelia didn't respond.

Professor Radburn took the register at the front of the class and explained, smiling, that transfiguration was the art of changing one object into another.

"But that isn't all we focus on, and first we must cover the basics, changing the physical properties of objects, before you all I have placed a ribbon, your task for today is to attempt the colour spell '_Lorem mutationem_'. Without wands first, if you please."

He had the students repeat the incantation until they had it memorised before allowing them to pick up their wands and attempt, in pairs, to turn their pink ribbons blue.

Beatrice tried first, nothing happened. Ophelia raised her wand, but the ribbon remained stubbornly pink.

For twenty minutes they waved and incanted but their ribbon did not change. Looking around, most seemed to be having the same problem, except for one pair.

With a whoop of excitement, Leith Jones thrust the ribbon into the air. "Look Professor!" He called, "Alfie turned ours purple!"

Professor Radburn nodded in approval, "Well done boy," he said to Alfred, who turned a little pink.

Beatrice sniffed and attempted again, but by the end of the lesson they had achieved nothing. But very few pairs had, Viveka and Hannah had managed to turn their baby pink ribbon a shocking cerise, and a fat little Slytherin boy had actually set his ribbon on fire, but Alfred's royal purple was the closest anybody got in that lesson.

"Don't be disheartened first-years, magic takes time," Professor Radburn called as they traipsed out towards the Great Halls for lunch.

"Magic's not quite what I was expecting," Leith was saying as they took their seats and helped themselves to soup, "You know, I thought magic was rabbits coming out of top hats and sawing pretty ladies in half,"

"Muggles are a strange lot," Tom laughed, "But we can always try, any volunteers to be sawn in half? Feeney?"

Beatrice scowled at him, "Try it," she said, waving her roll threateningly in his direction.

"Watch it Little Miss Gryffindor," Leith smirked, "Someone might mistake that for a sense of humour."

Next to them, Alfred was demonstrating the_ lorem mutationem_ spell to Viveka and Ophelia, his textbook open on the table.

"See, I think you have to bring the wand down on the second syllable, not the first," he waved his wand to demonstrate the motion, and the girls burst out laughing as his chicken and pumpkin soup, previously a warm orange, turned navy blue.

"You know, I think I've lost my appetite," he said, pushing the soup away, and even Beatrice, who had been thinking about her parents' letter, saw the funny side and smiled.

"Careful pulling faces like that, pint-size, it might stick,". Dave Fitch appeared, a half-eaten pasty in one hand, accompanied by a tall fourth year boy, he slapped his younger brother on the shoulder and added, 'Far be it from me to stop my little brother from getting into trouble on his first day, but for everybody else's benefit, Professor Carmine wants you all down by the greenhouse with the Hufflepuffs ten minutes early,"

"But its only five minutes until we're supposed to go down there," Tom exclaimed. Dave shrugged and took a bite from his pasty, "How hard do you expect me to try?" and he skulked off to the other end of the table to join the other fourth years.

"He's such a prat," Tom growled as they scrambled to collect their bags and ran out of the Great Hall.

The first-years arrived panting and out-of-breath at the greenhouses, where a small huddle of Hufflepuffs and a few of the Gryffindor boys stood waiting, with the willowy Professor Carmine, a tall lady with long black hair and an impossibly white face. She pursed her lips when she saw their breathless, flushed faces, but said nothing. She turned on her heel and walked into the greenhouse and the students filed obediently behind her.

In Beatrice's opinion, the inside of the Hogwarts greenhouse looked more like the deepest Amazonian rainforest than a classroom. Vines tangled so thick in places they blocked out the glass and strange flowers in bright colours turned to face them eerily as they passed.  
"Please keep your distance from the hepflowers," Professor Carmine warned, "They're just beginning to seed,"

Beatrice shuffled away from the plants and towards Hannah, though just a moment later, a little Hufflepuff with blonde pigtails gave a yelp and everybody turned to look. The Hufflepuff had a look of shock on her face as she held up the corner of her robes, a hole like a bullet entry had appeared in the fabric, and a small pellet-like seed was lying some distance away, clearly fired at some speed from the flower.

"I did warn you Miss Humphries. Come closer please," Professor Carmine said briskly. The first years all squeezed closer to listen.

Professor Carmine split the class into small groups and instructed them on the proper potting of the crystal hellebore, a rather beautiful plant with fragile, transparent leaves that could be used to create various healing potions, or so the Professor told them.

Beatrice was placed with Viveka, Ophelia and a small Hufflepuff boy named Finn, who, to her relief, was rather skilled at handling the fragile plant. She had noticed the other Gryffindors had, after only ten minutes, already broken most of the fragile leaves off their plants. Clumsy Alfred seemed to be a hindrance rather than a help to them.

By the time the lesson was over Professor Carmine had relented and assisted them with completing the potting of the few surviving plants, before dismissing them. The boys remained behind to allow Leith to question the Professor about an aspect of the potting, while Beatrice, Viveka, Hannah and Ophelia wandered along the stony path towards the castle.  
"Did you see that Hufflepuff's face when Alfie took the plant and the whole stem broke off?" Viveka laughed, pulling a mock-appalled face in imitation, Beatrice laughed.

"It wasn't nearly as funny as Professor Carmine's face," Hannah giggled, "I thought she was going to go up in a puff of smoke,"

It was still with a smile on her face that, as they came to the entrance hall, Beatrice excused herself from the group, who headed into the Great Hall, she strode up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room with the intention of changing her compost-y robes.  
However, on the first floor, she heard a gaggle of voices coming from the left of her. Down the Charms corridor, a group of first years were walking, deep in conversation.

"I know, the nerve of it,"  
"So do they think she was there on purpose?"  
"Of course," Beatrice recognised that voice as the dark-haired boy, Liskard, who had taunted her before the Sorting, "She was going on about being in Ravenclaw, but ended up in Gryffindor, she was obviously trying to sneak in,"

Beatrice, realising she did not want to be caught eavesdropping, ran for the stairs, not stopping until she reached the Fat Lady.  
_"Craneflies," _she panted and dashed inside, collapsing on one of the sofas inside the common room. It was mostly empty, two fifth years were sitting in the corner playing chess and an olive-skinned boy she recognised as one of Dave Fitch's fourth year friends was reading a Daily Prophet next to the fire.

She sat, catching her breath, the conversation she had overheard running through her mind. She had forgotten about last night, she had forgotten about Ravenclaw. She had forgotten about the plan, and the snag she had hit earlier that morning.

But at that moment, the answer walked through the portrait hole...

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Argh, why do schools need to have lessons? So much easier when students can run around with impunity :P No matter, we have learned a few things from this which will be relevant later, we met Alfie, and a few teachers and we are all ready for an upcoming confrontation in the next chapter. Woop woop!

And for the record, I have totally always wondered how the kids arrive at Hogwarts, are Sorted in the evening and then suddenly are wearing all the House-coloured gear.  
So my suggestion is, the House Elves do it in the night :P

The full list of Gryffindor first years, in case anybody wants to refer to it is:  
Beatrice, Hannah, Viveka, Ophelia and 'plump dark-haired girl' whose name is, though it hasn't been mentioned yet, Cornelia Golding, in the girls' dorm.  
Leith, Tom, Alfie and two other Gryffindor boys named William Almond (as yet unmentioned) and Robert Gibbons (as yet unmentioned).  
So altogether there are ten Gryffindor first years.


	7. Chapter 7

Leith Jones was not a particularly intelligent person. In later years it would not astonish him that he was not a Ravenclaw, any future success lay far more in his ability to gain the right friends than his own talent.

That said, on his second night at Hogwarts, it did not take him long to decide something was up.

He, Tom and Alfie were heading back from the Herbology greenhouse and Tom was laughing at a joke Alfie was telling.

"...And then the hag says to the house elf, 'don't forget to feed my Kneazle!'"

Tom chuckled, and Alfie smiled at Leith, who was looking confused.

"Wizard humour," Alfie shrugged, "You'll pick it up."

The boys had reached the castle and headed into the Great Hall, where dinner had been served, they took their seats and spooned generous servings of sausage casserole and mash onto their plates and tucked in, attempting conversation between mouthfuls.

"Hey guys,"

A lanky boy with large feet, a fair, close-cropped haircut and mischievous blue eyes fell into the seat next to Tom. He nodded politely to all of them and started helping himself to casserole.

"Alright Rob," they said in unison, as the Gryffindor began shovelling his, frankly enormous, meal into his mouth. It astonished Leith that anybody with an appetite like Robert Gibbons remained as skinny as he did. The night prior, Gibbons had provided something of a midnight feast of sweets as, unlike the girls, the new Gryffindor boys had remained awake well into the night introducing themselves.

"'Ere, you guys haven't seen that girl have you?"

"Girl?" asked Alfie.

"Yeah, posh, chubby blonde kid, they," he nodded at Ophelia, Hannah and Viveka, who were further down the long wooden table, "Were asking, said she'd gone up to change and hadn't come down,"

"Feeney," Leith nodded, but confirmed they saw her leave Herbology and had not noticed her since. Robert shrugged and went back to his expansive dinner.

"So what do you think of Hogwarts then muggle-born?" Tom asked, grinning at Leith, who chewed on a mushroom thoughtfully.

"Magic is not what I expected." He said finally, "But the food is excellent,".

The boys laughed, and Leith grinned. It was true, Hogwarts was strange and unexpected, but in the 24 hours since he had arrived, he had felt a rising emotion somewhere in his stomach, a feeling of satisfaction, as if he had just started a long-awaited meal. Leith Jones felt like he belonged.

oOo

Beatrice Feeney, on the other hand, was pacing the Gryffindor common room, all thought of dinner abandoned. She looked up with a start when the portrait door opened and a plump, black-haired girl walked through.

" Oh, hi Beatrice," she said, smiling, "Not going for dinner?"

Beatrice relaxed, it was Cornelia, the half-blooded witch who shared her dorm. "Oh, no," she said, "I'm not hungry, I'm waiting for someone,"

"Oh," Cornelia said, and sat down on a sofa next to the fire and pulled a Teen Witch magazine out of her bag.

"Is that the new issue?" Beatrice asked.

It was with a degree of confusion that Leith, Tom and Alfred (they had left Robert Gibbons eating his second dessert) opened the portrait door to be met with a rapturous round of giggles. Beatrice and Cornelia were poring over the Teen Witch.

"Now he really is gorgeous," Cornelia laughed, then, glancing up at the boys, attempted to pull a straight face, she coughed awkwardly.

"Don't mind us, ladies," Alfred laughed, and Beatrice looked up suddenly.

"Alfred, I... Uh, don't suppose I could borrow you for a minute?"

The boys glanced at each other, "Its about the colour-changing charm," she added hastily, seeing their expressions. Alfred gave a funny motion somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

"Sure, I guess. I'll be up later guys,"

The other two, looking decidedly put-out, shuffled up the stairs. Beatrice watched them leave.

oOo

It was over an hour before the weary Alfred Saxon yawned his way up the stairs, tripping through the dormitory door and sprawling, wand in hand, on his bed.

"What did Her Ladyship want?" Leith asked, flinching as he lay down a playing card onto a pile of what, judging by the singed carpet, was a pack of exploding snap cards, he glared at Tom, "You want to stop jostling me when I'm laying?" He asked, giving the other boy a poke, Tom apologised, running a hand through his too-short hair absent-mindedly. Leith looked up at Alfred, who was peering at their game over the corner of the bed.

"Oh, nothing, just wanted pointers on that colour charm, she managed a mid-blue before I came up, I was saying she was flourishing too much and she should try gripping tighter to create a more forceful-"

"Alfie, fascinating as that is..." Leith began.

"Do be quiet," Tom finished, tossing his card onto the deck. The corners of Alfie's mouth twitched as he watched the card's progress and he dissolved into a fit of laughter as the pack, with a bang and a cloud of purplish smoke, exploded, showering Tom in ash and sending Leith leaping away from the game in surprise.

After attempting to cover up the burn marks on the carpet, the boys clambered into bed, exhausted by the day work and the excitement. However, an hour later, Leith was still awake, thinking.

Suddenly, he leapt out of bed and, as silently as he could, drew back Tom's curtain, and shook his shoulders, the boy grumbled blearily.

"Leith? What's wrong?"

"It's Feeney," he whispered frantically, "Come on, we have to go,"

"What?"

"She's trying to get into the Ravenclaw common room,"

"How in the name of Merl-?"

"Never mind that," Leith hissed, "We have to stop her,"

Tom stared at the shadowy Leith as if he had sprouted an extra head. "Why?"

"Because..." Leith hesitated. Why did he want to help Beatrice? She wasn't particularly nice, she didn't seem to like the Gryffindors and treated them accordingly.

"Because we'll lose house points if she gets caught," he whispered finally.

Tom lay in silence for a second. "Fair point," he said, sliding out of bed and seizing his robes from the heap on the floor. "What if we get caught?" He asked.

"Don't," Leith muttered darkly, and the two boys hurried silently down the staircase to the common room. The room was, mercifully, empty. The only movement was the dying flickers of the fire. With hearts hammering in their throats they pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and stepped through. They froze as a rasping sound tore through the still air, but it was only the Fat Lady, snoozing against her frame.

Every shadow seemed to be a ghost or a teacher as the boys crept as quickly as they dared through the still castle, freezing at strange noises and dodging into the shadows. But, despite their terror, they saw nobody as they made their way to Ravenclaw tower.

"Quick," whispered Tom urgently, and the pair of them hurried up the stairs, but as the reached the door, darkened by shadow, they froze once more.

"Shh," Leigh three out an arm to stop Tom in his tracks, the boys fell silent, "What's that sound?"

A snuffling sound was coming from beside the door.

"Lumos," The tip of Tom's wand ignited, shining light into the dark corner and there, in a heap of cloak and robes, lay a person.

"Feeney," Leith whispered in disbelief.

"Beatrice," said Tom, he crouched down beside her, she started and looked at him, her eyes were red and her face puffy.

"Tom?" She looked shocked, then she noticed Leith, "What are you two doing here?"

"Shh," Tom hissed, "Leith realised what you were doing, we came to find you before you lost Gryffindor house points," Beatrice rose, her eyes filled with tears.

"I c-couldn't get past the door," she said, sniffling, "The r-riddle w-w-was too h-hard,"

"Of course it was you moron," Leith growled, "You're not a Ravenclaw, you're a Gryffindor, there's a reason we don't have riddles on our door,"

Beatrice opened her mouth to speak, but only managed a sob, she was still partially in shock at seeing the two Gryffindor boys.

"Come on," Tom tugged impatiently at Leith's sleeve, "if we aren't quick we'll all be caught,"

Beatrice nodded miserably and stumbled after the boys as they headed down the stairs, still sobbing silently, she clutched at the hood of Tom's robes to guide her through the dark, obscured by tears.

They were less than two corridors away from the portrait of the Fat Lady as, turning a corner, Leith froze, throwing an arm out to stop Tom, Beatrice, now dry-eyed and ahead of them, froze too.

"What the devil?!" Shouted a voice down the corridor, "You two, stop right there!"

Leith's heart was in his throat, whoever this was had only seen two of them. Beatrice had already rounded the corner. Seized by inspiration and a desire to lose as few points as possible, he hissed around the corner at the terrified Beatrice, "Run, now!"

Beatrice did not need telling twice, blood hammering in her ears, she sprinted the length of the corridor, terrified of hearing a call behind her, and finally careering around the next bend and coming to a halt before the Fat Lady.

"Craneflies," she panted, the Fat Lady looked concerned, but did not question her.

"If you say so dear," she said, swinging forwards. The common room was still empty so, with a sigh as she caught her breath, Beatrice flopped onto one of the armchairs and stared sightlessly into the fire.

oOo

It could have been thirty seconds later, maybe it was an hour, for all Beatrice knew she had been staring at the fire for a week, when suddenly a sound made her start. It was a House Elf, a female clearly, and very young, as it was wearing a tea towel dress with the Hogwarts crest stamped on the chest.

Beatrice cleared her throat loudly, the Elf leapt into the air, dropping the vase she had been dusting, it smashed loudly and the Elf, clearly flustered, dropped to the floor to gather the pieces.

"Wennie is sorry," she squeaked as she scrambled for the pieces, "Wennie is not seeing you, Wennie's deepest apologies,"

"It's okay," Beatrice shrugged, "Can you not fix it with magic?"

Wennie looked as if she might burst into tears, "Yes, yes, Wennie is forgetting, it is only Wennie's third day," The little Elf snapped her fingers, most of the pot flew together with a gentle whooshing sound, though a few pieces remained on the floor.

Wennie snapped her fingers again, the pieces did not move, frustrated, the little Elf snapped three more times, finally, the pieces flew back to their place.

"Wennie is sorry miss," the Elf flung herself to the floor, "Wennie is not being very good at magic,"

Beatrice knelt down, and patted the little Elf's back, "It's okay, I'm not very good at magic either, we'll learn,"

Wennie looked up, she opened her mouth as if to say something, but froze, her large ears quivering. The portrait door swung open and Beatrice heard a loud crack as the Elf disappeared.

Tom Fitch stepped through the portrait hole, and if Beatrice thought he looked disgruntled, it was nothing compared to Leith, who followed him, looking murderous. He strode towards where Beatrice was crouching.

Tom lunged to grab Leith's arm, "Leith, leave it," he murmured warningly. Leith pulled his arm free and rounded on Beatrice.

"What the hell are you playing at Feeney!?" He spat at her, "We have detention now because of you,"

Beatrice felt a wave of anger rise up inside her, she rose to face him.

"What am I playing at!? What are you two playing at!? I didn't ask either of you to come after me!"

Leith looked furious, "No, but when you were discovered because you were too stupid to open the door, you'd have lost our house dozens of points,"

"I don't care! I don't care about stupid Gryffindor and your precious house points..."

Leith cut her off there, his voice cold and angry. "You will, when your Mummy and Daddy find out you're not a Ravenclaw," he mixed viciously, "And your Ravenclaw buddies don't want you because you're stupid, you'll wish you cared about Gryffindor,"

Beatrice was silent, a mixture of fury and fear churning unpleasantly in her stomach. She felt a pricking in the corners of her eyes and, without saying another word, she turned on her heel and rushed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

Leith gave an impatient huff and turned to Tom, who looked forlornly back at him. His friend's baleful expression did nothing to calm his rage.

"Don't look at me like that, she needed to hear it, she can't go round losing us points and getting us into trouble without expecting us to get mad,"

Tom said nothing, he merely shrugged and began walking up the stairs to bed. Leith hesitated, but followed closely behind. In the boys' dormitory, the three other occupants were sound asleep as the boys entered, and without another word, Leith and Tom climbed into bed and drew the curtains noiselessly.

Beatrice, however, did not sleep well. She lay awake until dawn began to paint the black sky purple, a terrible knot tightening in her stomach as she imagined Kjal swooping through the top floor window of her house, a letter tied to his scaly leg...

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Wowza! I have impressed myself by keeping this up. Apologies that chapters take way longer than I estimate but I get carried away.

Yay! I like Wennie, she's sweet, we'll be seeing more of her later. And Robbie Gibbons the champion eater who makes me laugh and is thoroughly inspired by a real person, but we'll keep that on the shush in case he ends up reading this ;)  
I wish to thank every single person who has read or reviewed this story, you are all so immensely kind to a new writer! It makes me want to write better to keep you all impressed :P

Also, I realise that having five of each gender in the year might imply five couples at the end of seventh year, but that is not nearly my intention. Mwahaha!

In the next chapter. Broomsticks, grumpy Alfie and maybe some Fitch action.


End file.
